She Is 52 Poem by Tyrone Gayle

Earlier today, I was standing as I checked the calendar on my phone,
Abruptly, I whispered to myself, 'It's the sixth of the eighth Tyrone! '
And a crazy moment occurred for I slowly nodded to myself in approval,
Like that time when the connection was lost while I spoke to an Oovoo pal,

That went down as a fun memory but I wished I had a memory of this day in '62,
Just to have an excerpt of the excitement of such an experience instead of being an expatriate expressing about extravaganza 52,
Oh I wish I had a flashback of such a sweet and dandy Monday like the legend Toots born in '42,
Wow! I can boldly assume the joyful noise that dispersed from the people's voices could annihilate the shots of a.32,

In the little I know, I am aware nothing is better than the freedom to grow into the best you can be,
So Jack was kindly told to climb down from the top,
And make way for the for the beautiful green, gold and black,
To unleash a phenomenal island to the world but the full use of her potential, no one has yet to see.